(4)
And now this Lady's gone diſtracted,
and unto bedlam ſhe is thrown;
For the ſake of her deareſt Johnny,
both day and night ſhe's making moan.
LORD HOWE'S VICTORY.
COME all you gallant hearts of gold,
A glorious tale I will unfold,
Of Howe, who fought the French ſo bold,
On board of the Queen Charlotte;
The firſt of June this fight began,
And gallant Howe he led the van;
Our ſhot did play ſo bor that day,
Monſieurs they ſwore they would not ſtay,
In vain they ſtrove to run away,
For Howe took care they ſhould not.
The Charlotte, with Lord Howe therein,
This fierce encounter did begin,
So bravely threw their broadſides in,
Againſt the French Commander!
Who found the fight ſo hot that day,
That he could not withſtand the fray,
So from the action bore away,
And ſwore he would no longer ſtay,
For he was no Salamander.
Seven ſhips fell in our hands that day,
So crippled could not get away,
Like logs they on the ſea did ly,
So warm, was their reception:
